Until the End
by Aeroutak
Summary: With Japan cut off from the rest of the world, will the last International Naval Base be able to break through the East China Sea? A new warship designed to ward off threats from decades past may be the tipping point of this war. Rating may change.
1. Prologue

**My first fanfiction in a while now.** **I'll be busy for a while now...and will probably be uploading once a half a week? Thank you all for reading, reviews are appreciated.**

 **I do not own Kancolle.**

There was nothing anymore. No water, no booming of guns, no thudding of bombs and torpedoes, no buzzing of radio, no droning of planes. Silence. Kirov lay in the darkness, suspended in the middle of the abyss that seemed to completely envelope her new realm. There was no light to tell day from night, but there wasn't much need to know the time. She recollected her memories of her home port, Severomorsk, of her friends and comrades, of her officers, sailors, her patrols, and the engagement that sunk her and severely damaged numerous others of her patrol. Other times, she simply relaxed and tried to enjoy this sense of peace.

She did not know much about the world these days; but she knew better than to trust this serenity to last.

There was a time when the most pressing threat humanity faced were the numerous terrorist factions that sprang up in the decades following the turn of the century. That had been why Kirov and her sister ship, Hornet, had been designed and built after all. A joint project by Britain, France, Germany, Russia, and the United States to eliminate the terrorist threat overlooking the world. They had been the first and only Eurocruisers built of a planned five.

Humanity rapidly lost territory in the oceans of the world in the years following her construction. The Enemy, risen from what was only known as the Abyss, sank any human warship or merchant vessel on sight. They were humanoid things, being described as "Humans, with their skin bleached white, and with red eyes that glow in the dark as if they were orbs rather than eyes."

From that location in the Northern Pacific, the Enemy was sighted in the Southern, and then the Atlantic. Kirov and the Red Navy had been unconcerned until an air attack obliterated the coastal defenses of Severomorsk. High Command had immediately dispatched a patrol of reconstructed warships and modern warships alike to delay a possible invasion of Russia as long as possible, or until they had Severomorsk rebuilt from the ashes of where it once stood. Kirov hoped she and her comrades had succeeded, not knowing the result of the battle after she was separated and sunk after an unknown kind of torpedo blew her stern clean off, and with it, half her missile batteries, number two gun, and her steam turbine.

She longed to go back, to serve her Motherland once again and blow this enemy off the face of the Earth. She longed to see her comrades again, to have her weapons at rest, to have the sea brushing against her hull again. She longed to rest in the dock, to watch her sailors drink and laugh until the world flipped itself in their vision and they awoke in the morning to the Admiral blaring a trumpet at their ears.

Good ol' days. Kirov felt a wind brush over her.

 _Huh? There's no wind down here…Hornet, I miss you…_


	2. Chapter One

She was alerted by a faint humming sound. The warm wind blowing around her in the cold and dark of the abyss persisted, but now she felt grains underneath her back. Kirov recognized the feeling as sand, sand warmed by the sun tirelessly day after day. Cracking an eye open, Kirov found the darkness she had been living in for the past half a month was now replaced by a blinding light. She quickly shut the eye, allowing the flashes of light to subside.

When they did, and her vision again returned to darkness, she carefully peeked out again. A rather pleasant sun hung in the sky, watching a beach that stretched to the far end of a small island, and a humble stand of palm trees that rested further inland. This...this was not Russia. Kirov reached upwards, removing the black ushanka from atop her head. Turning it, she found the Red Star placed proudly in front, and it was is surprisingly good condition, minus the sand now mixed in.

A dark shape flew across her vision, rotors spinning madly as it struggled to keep its axis stable. Upon closer inspection, Kirov saw that it was a KA-29 she was carrying when Gangut spotted the enemy vessels. It had noticeable damage, the scorched metal plating covering its sides dented and warped. Her befuddled mind stopped there. Gangut? Who was that again?

 _Ah, no matter_ , she thought. _I wonder where I am, though. Not my Motherland, for sure…_

Kirov pushed her hands into the sand beneath her. Sitting up, she saw a tablet, its screen dark, lying in the ground next to her.

 _Well that helps a lot. I'm a steel warship, I can't use it. I don't even have hands. Why is it even here?_ She glanced down, expecting to find steel and titanium, but only saw skin and a rather torn black trench coat covering the remnants of a Red Navy uniform. A little too revealing for her liking at the moment, but it should do fine once she had it repaired. _I'm human now? That explains quite a bit, but I'd still like a few more answers._

A metal structure sprawled itself on her back. Kirov, too tired to retort, glared at it, only to find her old bridge staring back at her, a few strands of her brown hair clinging onto her conn tower. The aft radar was non-existent, and the starboard side of the funnel behind the bridge looked like it had taken a good HE shell to the face. If it had one. The KA-29 fumbled in the air, and a voice crackled through her radio.

"Permis-" the voice began. It sounded suspiciously like her navigations officer, albeit a little scratchier and a little more hoarse than Kirov remembered. He cut himself off as an object detached itself from the helicopter's warped airframe and buried itself in the sand with a thud. "Huh, that looked important," her nav officer mumbled into his headset. "Permission to land! I think I know where we are," he finished.

"Of course, permission granted. But why are you flying _that_ helicopter? It looks like it just flew through a cloud of shrapnel," Kirov asked, pointing vaguely in the struggling KA-29's direction. She raised her right arm, which had a length of metal clasped onto its upper portion. Kirov recognized the platform that began to emerge as the helicopter flight deck that used to occupy the entirety of her aft platform. It unfolded itself and a small detachment of sailors, wearing their usual uniforms and looking exhausted and weary, rushed out to greet the approaching helicopter. They looked like her old airmen, but smaller and with ridiculously disproportionate heads.

"Have you taken a look at the others? One is inoperable and the other is basically a wreckage!" Her nav officer responded hastily, presumably wrestling with the controls to land their last operating helicopter without blowing half of Kirov's arm off. Kirov felt a little weight as the helicopter clumsily dropped itself onto the waiting platform. The aircraft's crew disembarked and her airmen began to move the helicopter into the hangar, presumably on her arm. She was about to ask how she would check her systems' conditions when her navigations officer spoke up again. "Don't ask, use the tablet stuck in the sand next to you."

 _Someone's feeling sassy today_. She picked up the tablet, and as her thumb brushed across its surface, the screen lit up with a cheerful Eurocruiser Kirov, followed by the seal of the Red Navy. It showed the status of all her systems, except for her aft starboard missile battery and aft point-defence missile battery, whose markers were grayed out. She craned her neck to inspect the area surrounding her funnel, and lo and behold, the starboard missile battery and point-defence battery were obliterated. The tablet bleeped.

 _Helicopter 2, received in hangar._ She tapped on the hangar status bar. Hmm. The navigation officer wasn't kidding. Helicopter one's engine was inoperable, but other than a few bullets, it seemed fine. Helicopter three's nose was blown clean off. _Great, I'm stuck with one damaged scout then._

She decided not to use her remaining helicopter for attack, even if it was the assault variant of the KA-27.

Her steering, reactors, and steam turbine seemed fine, with minor damage to the number one gun. Her two 180 mm triple gun mounts hung above her shoulders, swivelling on their steel and titanium tracks. Indeed, number one gun's armor was charred on the right side and its third barrel was slightly dented. She radioed the bridge.

"So, navigation, where are we?"


	3. Chapter Two

**I'm sorry if these last few chapters have been a little bit confusing. It'll be cleared up soon.**

 **Thank you all for reading!**

At least the sea would stay the same. The sea was her home, her refuge. And yet, it had been the sea where she would meet her end.

 _Nope_ , Kirov berated herself. _Thoughts like those are dangerous._

The water spraying at her, the wake she trailed as she cruised northwards at her usual twenty-five knots on her nuclear reactors. She wanted to push thirty-five knots with her steam turbine, but it was important to conserve fuel. The wind whipped around, her hair billowing behind her and steel creaking happily to the roll and pitch of the sea. If she subtracted the fact that her legs and damage control teams were crying out in protest to the flooding, and her clothing was still in tatters, Kirov could be happy on this world once again. Her instinct said so, her experience said enjoy your moments while you can. She could have pretended she was still a steel warship, before the Enemy arrived, pouring out of their Abyss.

"What are you fighting for?" someone had once asked her.

"I fight to kill. That's what I was made for, anyway," she'd responded. Attack, during her short life span, had all she'd known, all her crew had been instructed. Defense was such a foreign concept, difficult to understand, much less enact.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. _For now, I need to concentrate on who to trust and who to fight._ She'd prefer making it to China, but who knew how many the Enemy numbered around here now...or even if China still existed. Japan was closer at the moment, but Russia and Japan weren't too friendly when Kirov sank.

 _No, on the brink of war is more accurate._

Kirov sighed, the arm holding the tablet falling slack. She scanned the horizon. There were a small cluster of islands to her south-west, and a squall brewing in the north-west. She closed her eyes, relaxing in the spray of seawater as her legs burned in pain and her damage and repair parties scrambled to keep the water out of a few leaks springing in her propulsion, now embodied in a pair of dark grey heels.

"Unidentified contact, bearing north-northeast!" her bridge shouted at her frantically through the radio. "Humanoid beings, and yes, they have guns!"

Kirov felt panic rising within herself. _You are human, too._ She moved her suddenly stiff limbs. "I'll head towards the squall. Tell me if anything changes, open fire if they move closer than five kilometers."

"Acknowledged," came the response.

She turned hard left, until the squall was directly in front of her. It was closer than she'd expected, and if she engaged her steam turbines, she should be in it in a matter of minutes. "Engineering, full ahead!"

Water kicked up behind her in a fitful wake as she accelerated, barrelling towards the brewing storm at thirty-seven knots. Sunlight gleamed off the pristine blue of the ocean, and she could faintly see a division of about seven people if she asked the bridge to magnify in their direction. The darkness of the storm surrounded her, but unlike the darkness before, this one was less suffocating. Rain fell reassuringly, and the sea frothed underneath her. Her bridge radioed her again.

"Second contact, bearing north-northwest. They appear to be heading towards each other," the bridge said. She asked them to magnify once again. They were also human, to what extent was debatable. Their skin gleamed white, as if made of bone. Their eyes shone red, as if they were fueled by an insurmountable anger. Their hands were much too large for their arms, but they somehow seemed natural. However, Kirov was too far away to recognize that the two patrols were opposing fleets. One the guardians of Earth, the other the bane of mankind.

"Watch them," Kirov responded. Through the blue visor that the bridge cast before her eyes, she stared at the two approaching groups dotting the horizon. And, all of a sudden, a muzzle flash, followed by a geyser arising in the midst of the Enemy battle group. She could clearly see the two dueling factions now. One fought with human ships, like her. The other was clearly the Enemy she dreaded, fighting with their abominations of their human counterparts and twisted shark-like creations.

Guns erupted in the distance, and she spied what looked like miniature planes rushing from both battle groups. Piston engined fighters, flying alongside dive bombers, pitted against awkward white flying spheres and darker, more triangularly shaped dive bombers. Their engines buzzed as the battle moved progressively closer to Kirov, and she could see the ships quite clearly now.

The enemy had one carrier, presumably a fleet carrier, surrounded by an escort of numerous unknown ships. Their aircraft streamed from a hat perched atop the carrier's head, how she didn't collapse was for Kirov to guess. The Japanese, from the flags and plane identifications, possessed one fleet carrier as well, but had one escort carrier and numerous battleships, destroyers, and cruisers. Kirov spotted a Hellcat squadron lifting off from the carrier.

 _Oop, there're Americans there too...is that a German cruiser?_

Kirov braced herself on her feet, rooted herself to the sea. Then she tilted her head up, held her ushanka down, and watched the unfolding aerial battle. The Corsairs and Hellcats were both very maneuverable planes, with the most powerful engines to be mounted on an airframe of their weight. However, their counterparts seemed to be able to somehow outmaneuver, and even outgun them. The shipgirl patrol group lost plane after plane, until their losses amounted to entire squadrons.

 _Ah, KA-29, would you mind scouting, and if possible, support the Japanese? Without killing yourself, comrades._

The still wrecked helicopter lifted off. It did look somewhat healthier now, its engine humming contentedly instead of its earlier sputtering.

Kirov watched from the squall, and supported by the feed from the helicopter, watched the battle with a relatively good understanding of its nature. It was an old-fashioned battle, warships lobbing shells instead of missiles at each other, geysers of water erupting around them as they did so.

 _I'll intervene if the Japanese can't handle this themselves. I'm sure they can._

She was immediately proved wrong. A shell lit up on a destroyer's riggings, sending her spiraling into the arms of a battleship. The carrier was hit by a bomb, which proceeded to obliterate half of her face.

"Bridge, remove radio silence," Kirov instructed. "I want you to contact them if they haven't already asked for help."

Her officers responded with choppy acknowledgements. As water continued to blow into the sky, and guns continued to flash, a static filled her ears.

"Distress call, from the patrol group," her bridge announced. Kirov nodded and told them to put it through.

"Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is Task Force Thirteen, requesting assistance! We-" the girl's voice was cut off as she ducked to avoid the water gushing up to her left. There was a flash as a shell exploded on a heavy cruiser in a red and gray uniform, and set the poor girl on fire. Kirov turned away as she began waving frantically, presumably screaming.

 _Yep, time to go, comrades. Weapons hot!_

Without waiting for the rest of the distress call, her engineering kicked her engines into full, accelerating her to damn near forty knots. Her missile crews reported their locks, guns tailing the enemy.

 _You've had enough fun, you miserable pricks. If my comrades are dead because of you, then this is for them!_

Rage boiling as furiously as her engineering division, Kirov spoke into her radio.

"Task Force Thirteen, distress call received. Steaming for your location from the southwest. Out."

She faintly saw a few members of the patrol sweep their gazes in her direction, a battleship dressed in black the first to spot her. Kirov ignored the stares in her direction, and finally the repeated radio signals demanding her name and class. There could be international ships, y'know.

Kirov pointed an outstretched hand towards her enemy. Receiving her crews' locked and loaded, she drew a breath.

"Fire!"

Her two gun mounts thundered, five barrels functioning. Missiles slipped from their pods and silos, flung straight outwards before turning and thrusting themselves at the Abyssals.

 _Abyssals? Ehh, where'd I get that?_

As her warheads probed for their targets, two Abyssal cruisers turned their guns and fired. Kirov felt the shells fly through the air on her radar, warning her crew of the explosives in the air.

"Rudder full left! Engine room, one-quarter speed! Cut the steam turbine!" she yelled. "Point defense, open up!"

Normally, in a modern battle, this would have worked, or helped at the very least. Kirov sported exceptional point-defense systems, but her main armor belt was thin and rudder shift time ridiculous. She'd spun her rudder halfway before deciding point-defense missiles were considerably less effective than munitions defense against shells. Paired with her abomination of a turn time, four shells struck her directly below the hip, and one fragmented into her foot.

She screamed as shrapnel tore into her flesh, wounding scores of her crew.

 _Carry them to med bay, the more hands we have, the better, comrades._

"Damage report!" she yelled, as the northern sky blossomed into rolling fire as an Abyssal ship detonated.

"Steering engine damaged. Rudder jammed," came the bridge's response. "Repair party says we'll be fine in fourteen minutes."

 _Ah, that looks bad…_

Her leg was torn open, blood once again flowing freely from the newly opened wounds. How much blood did the human body keep in itself?

She touched her ushanka and adjusted its position on her head. It felt so safe, as if it had always been there, overlooking her world.

 _Doesn't matter. I'll die from blood loss before steering's fixed, or I'll sink first. I'd really hate to lose my hat though._

Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a warship who had a flight deck strapped to her arm was now actually quite close. She still missing half her face, similar to Kirov's now ruined leg. The carrier wore a grey United States Navy uniform, and had flowing reddish-brown hair. When she was able to see Kirov in detail, her jaw unhinged and eyes widened. She dropped her bow. Kirov, unsure if she should be horrified or relieved, watched as the rest of the carrier's patrol group followed her.

 _Don't trust them,_ a voice urged. _They are similar to the people who killed you._

 _You just helped them_ , another voice argued. _Do as they say, I trust them._

 _Gunnery, navigation, shut up for now, will ya?_ Kirov thought.

"Oh my…" a fast battleship in white robes was the first to speak up. In Japanese. Kirov, however precariously balanced on her faltering legs, pointed her remaining guns at the ships. "What happened to her?"


	4. Chapter Three

**A very short chapter. My apologies.**

 **Thank you all for reading and your support, it means quite a bit to me!**

Kirov watched as multiple destroyers and a second battleship leveled their guns to point right back at her. Her blurry mind registered none of this, and kept her guns leveled.

The American carrier waved her hand dismissively. She reached down and grasped her bow, before unwinding the string and pulling it off. She then proceeded to raise both hand defensively, or reassuringly, Kirov couldn't tell.

"Lower your weapons," she instructed. The second battleship spoke up, grey radar glittering as the clouds of the squall in the background began to disperse.

"Are you sure? We don't know who she is, probably Russian, and she might think we're at war from what I've read about the world," she said. The battleship sported a black uniform with bold golden trim, and ruby red eyes that bore skeptically into Kirov's blues.

The carrier seemed to tilt her head, just a fraction.

"Do it."

She turned back to Kirov, returning her hands to their old position near her shoulders.

"Are you alright?"

 _Does it look like I'm alright?_

"Hey, look, we're not going to hurt you. Come with us, we can help you, at least heal your wounds," the carrier finally spoke.

 _Easy for you to say when I don't know where my comrades are, or what happened after we were attacked by the likes of you. You're not all that different from the Abyssals, no?_

She introduced herself as Saratoga, one of the few US carriers stuck in Japan after the Abyssal blockade.

"We've been trying to break through back to China or Hawaii, but Taiwan is cut off by a forward base at Okinawa and China's blocked off by two main battle fleets," she explained. "We haven't heard from Russia in half a decade, and we haven't heard from anybody else for two years."

Kirov nodded weakly, and to her surprise, lowered her guns.

 _I might as well go. They've promised they're not my enemy, and they've promised repairs. Perhaps they'll help me go back to Russia?_

She opened her mouth to agree, but her battered legs gave out and she collapsed into the water.

"Ey, don't sink now! Kongou, stop arguing with Nagato and help me!" a suddenly panicked voice shouted.

The white robed battleship Kirov now recognized as Kongou came dimly into her vision. Two pairs of struggling arms lifted her and her groaning riggings out of the sea, and finally dumped her into Saratoga's arms. She felt Saratoga turn and yell something, but couldn't make out what she'd said as her mind faded.

 _Huh. Why're they all WWII ships, just like the Abyssals? Are my friends back, too? And are these people my friends?_

Her mind left her reeling in darkness then.


	5. Chapter Four

She awoke to an unfamiliar ceiling. And warm water. Kirov tried to turn her head, the movement only translating into an involuntary jerk.

 _This is fine. I can't move, I'm probably in a bath, and I don't know where I am. Da, this is fine._

Her eyes found a timer on the green tiled wall. There were similar timers framing most of the stalls in the building, a soft mist hanging over the area. She'd heard about the famous Japanese public baths, but why would Saratoga or someone else leave her here? The red numbers on the timer blinked and reappeared. 14:28, it read.

She heard a door creak open. Someone walked in, but when Kirov tried again to turn her head, she again had multiple limbs twitch awkwardly in the water. A chuckle sounded through the building.

"I see you're awake, but don't try to move just yet. You did come in with an impressive amount of damage," Saratoga said. She pulled up a stool and sat down on the deck next to Kirov. "How're you feeling?"

Kirov tried to speak.

"Ah," she managed. "F-fine."

"That's good to hear," Saratoga responded cheerfully. She glanced at a clock on the wall. "I'll be back in a few hours. I'm sure you have questions, and they will be answered. When you're fixed, I'll take you to see the Admiral." The proud carrier left a plate of biscuits and a cup of tea on the ledge next to Kirov, bringing her stool back out with her as she pushed open the door.

 _Saratoga! I can't move!_

* * *

"Wake up, desu!"

Kirov awoke to a grinning Fast Battleship Kongou shaking her by the shoulders.

"Ei-Kongou," she began. "Kongou, that hurts…"

"Oh? Sorry, nanodesu," the british-built battleship responded quickly, loosening her overpowering grip on Kirov's shoulders. "Saratoga wants you to come with us to Mamiya's. We'll show you some new people, and then we can have a proper introduction!"

Kongou tossed a towel to Kirov, who barely caught it before it soaked itself in the water. Wrapping it around herself, she followed Kongou to a small locker room. It appeared to be almost completely unused, but that was probably because the baths were presumably repair baths.

Her normal attire was waiting in a metal box. Kirov lifted her coat out, and instead of it in tatters as it had been days before, the black fabric had been meticulously replaced and sewn back together.

Her tights and shirt were in similar condition, and she noted a new seal on her left arm.

 _Yokosuka Naval District, huh? Whoever did this is very good at what they do._

Pulling on her coat, Kirov finished dressing, replaced the box in the locker, and hastily made her way to the door Kongou exited through. The fast battleship was quick to notice her.

"Let's go to Mamiya's, desu! We'll take you to see Admiral after!"

 _She's very enthusiastic for someone who doesn't even know my name..._


	6. Chapter Five

The first thing Kirov noticed when she strode into Mamiya's Cafe behind Kongou was that it was quite homey. The building was outcast from the steel and concrete behemoths that surrounded it, and a relaxing sunlight permeated throughout the small structure. There were pastries on the neatly lined tables, light meals, drinks more than anybody could ask for.

 _No vodka, though. Well, no Russians here. I'd love a drink though._

Mamiya's food was delicious. For one thing, her own cook had been exceptionally horrible, except on certain occasions where he'd be able to whip up something worthy of a five star restaurant. There'd been a rumor that he was simply mentally ill.

Mamiya, on the other hand, was able to cook consistently, even able to keep up with the carriers' ridiculous appetites. She was able to serve Saratoga's mattress sized table of Canadians, Americans, Germans, and Japanese. Kirov would say the supply ship's reputation in the base was well deserved.

"You're going to go see Admiral after, so I don't recommend getting drunk right now, desu!" Kongou'd said.

Saratoga introduced Kirov to the shipgirls sitting around them. Seven Canadian frigates, Charlottetown, Toronto, Montreal, Swansee, St. Pierre, Lanark, and Lasalle, as well as the light cruiser Ontario. They were an odd bunch, but Ontario seemed to have no trouble keeping an eye on the children.

There were two Kriegsmarine ships.

"Prinz Eugen, Admiral Hipper class heavy cruiser! It's so nice to meet you! Everyone's been talking about you for days!" She shook Kirov's hand heartily.

"B-Bismarck, lead ship of the Bismarck class battleships. It-It's a pleasure to meet you," Eugen's now slightly red-faced companion hastily said and immediately sat down. Prinz Eugen smirked and followed suit.

The Japanese, a cruiser in a blue jacket named Atago. Three destroyers, Fubuki, Mutsuki, and Yuudachi. Two carriers, Shokaku and Zuikaku. And the Kongou sisters, jostling around cheerfully the entire time.

The Americans, battleships Iowa and Texas.

 _They're so content together. It's like they've forgotten they'd been bitter enemies once._

There was considerable confusion over which Kirov she was. It was understandable, the other girls knowing of two, her namesake from the Cold War, and the old Kirov from 1938.

 _They've kept a good secret about the Eurocruiser Project, then._

No, she was not from the Cold War or from World War Two. No, she did not personally know them. She was the second Eurocruiser, similar to a guided missile heavy cruiser.

"You're from Russia, right?"

"My namesake is Russian. I suppose you could say that, but I was built by four other countries as well."

"Hm? Which ones?"

"Ah, Britain. Germany, France, and the United States. My systems were divided between the countries, and it was each one's job to manufacture them."

 _A ship like that, twenty years before Hornet and I, would have been a work of fiction._

The other girls seemed to accept much better than she'd expected. The sun was beginning to set, slightly dimming the small restaurant. Mamiya strode across the room behind the counter and flipped the lights on.

Finishing her meal, Ontario checked her watch. Her eyes slightly widened.

"Oh! We should get going now. C'mon, we'll miss the game!" the light cruiser exclaimed. She stood up, thanking Saratoga for the meal, and strode out. The frigates followed her, the two American battleships trailing beside them.

 _I'm assuming it's a hockey game._

"Mm, I've only been to Tokyo a few times. It's nice there, we should go sometime," Kongou said behind Kirov. This was followed by a chorus of agreements from Hiei, Haruna, Kirishima, and Saratoga on the other side of the table.

* * *

Saratoga pointed down a hallway.

"Admiral's office is just down here, on the right. You'll see a sign with his name on it," she said. "If you need me, I'll be down in the harbour with the other carriers."

Kirov nodded, thanking her and began to walk down the indicated hall. The left wall was covered by majestic windows that flooded the building with relaxing afternoon light. Offices and meeting rooms lined the opposite side, large wooden doors gleaming in the sun.

She stopped in front of a grand set of doors, a plaque beside them displayed prominently on the wall.

 _Admiral Mitsuwa? Hmm, this is it then._

Kirov reached an arm up and rapped the wood. The sound reverberated through the hallway, before a muffled voice answered.

"Come in."

Opening the door, Kirov found herself in a much smaller office than she expected, a man clad in white bent over a desk and hastily scribbling upon a map. Said desk was almost entirely covered with paper, save for a small spot occupied by a mug of probably cold tea. The man looked up, his hat slightly offset atop a mess of white hair. Kirov noted that she could clearly see dark circles under his eyes; the man obviously had not slept for quite a while.

 _Which admiral pushes himself this hard?_ She glanced around the office, the walls framed by paintings, a few cabinets, and on the ground, more paperwork. _Where does one even_ find _that much work to be done?_

The man's head dropped back to the map and her began to move his pen again. He stopped, and head shot back up, crimson eyes slightly narrowed.

"Who are you?" he asked in a gruff voice. Kirov hastily saluted.

"Kirov, Red Navy. Second ship of the Eurocruiser Project, sir!"

 _He's technically not my superior yet._

"Saratoga and your patrol found me earlier," she added. Admiral Mitsuwa returned his gaze to the paper before him. He pulled a folder out from a drawer beneath the desk, and retrieved a small slip of paper from within.

"Ah, yes. It's a pleasure to meet you, Kirov." He paused, motioning to a couch near the left wall. "Have a seat."

"Welcome to Yokosuka Naval District. This is the last International base remaining in Japan, but it has some of the most powerful ships from around the globe." Mitsuwa paused, white hat dipping a little with his head. "I hope you'll enjoy it here...You probably won't be able to leave with this blockade."

The Admiral had opened his mouth to continue, but the door creaked and a black-clad battleship stepped in. Her crimson eyes were nearly identical to the Admiral's, and her radar array resembled a pair of horns.

"I've found the files you were looking for," she began, holding out a stack of paper in her hand. "Eeh-who's that?"

 _Please, please stop asking me that, everyone._

She was saved from having to answer by Admiral Mitsuwa. "Eurocruiser Kirov. She's our guest from three days ago."

 _It's been that long, huh? I kinda want to go shoot a few of them Abyssals now._

The battleship nodded in recognition. "Battleship Nagato, lead ship of the Nagato-class."

The Admiral cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about your case for a while," he began.

 _I hope he hasn't been not sleeping because of me. You need sleep, even if you_ are _commanding the last outpost of human resistance in Japan._

Seeing her expression, Mitsuwa clarified that the work was a report for a major operation to retake Okinawa, the original plan for the Kanmusu Program naval bases to build a forward base. "You'll stay here, and until we get this blockade sorted out, we'll keep you hidden from the public. Since you were apparently a secret weapon, I don't want an uproar here when we already have enough to deal with. You're the only modern ship to come to Japan, or any other country as far as we know."

Kirov was about to nod.

"What happened to my patrol?" she blurted. "I-it's fine if you don't know... I'm just really worried about my friends."

Mitsuwa sighed sympathetically.

"We do not know. After hearing about the Abyssal attack on Severomorsk, Japan was attacked on the north shore. We lost three minor islands, until the conventional military was able to retake them."

"They were lost," Nagato interrupted.

Mitsuwa flashed a look at Nagato. "How'd you know that?"

Nagato shrugged slightly.

"Ooyodo heard a distress call two weeks ago." Mitsuwa's eyes flared up in anger for a moment, but he calmed himself down quickly. "We didn't tell you since many of us thought it would drive you insane since we're in a blockade and can't help them."

 _Really? You idiots..._

The Admiral let his head fall into his hands.

"Kirov, I'm sorry you've had to sit through all this. Don't worry, if your friends sank as warships, there's a chance they'll turn up in a summoning or come in like you did. Go get some rest…" he trailed off.

Resisting the urge to slap most of the populace of the base, Kirov saluted haughtily and left the Admiral's office.

* * *

 **Sorry for the fluctuating chapter lengths, I'm experimenting a little with them...**

 **Would you prefer them shorter, as in the first four, or longer such as this one? Let me know, and thank you all for reading!**


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six is out now. Enjoy, and thank you for reading!**

* * *

"Did something go wrong?" Saratoga asked. She'd found a quite enraged Kirov as she left the administrative building. Having calmed the modern cruiser down, Saratoga brought her friend down the stone path by the sea.

 _If she's trying to have me relax, it's working well._

The sun was barely hanging above the horizon of the ocean,and a strong wind raked the harbour. Just like she remembered, the sea would rush up and lap at the stone walls before returning and forming another wave. A few leaves on the trees dotting the earth next to the trail rustled, as if someone were turning a barrel full of sand and gravel upside down.

Kirov pulled out a piece of parchment a light cruiser named Ooyodo gave her. It provided a map with the second fleet dormitory circled, and wrote the number "94" beside it. The missile cruiser and fleet carrier agreed it meant room 94 in Second Fleet.

"Ah, no, it was fine. Admiral seems nice, he basically had all the legal stuff sorted out already and apparently already arranged for me to stay here."

Saratoga gave her a look. _That's not it,_ it said plainly.

"Eeh, he wanted to keep me hidden, at least for now. Mind if I ask you something?"

Her companion tilted her head. "Of course."

Kirov closed her eyes, and for a moment Mitsuwa's sleep-deprived face flashed in her mind.

"Is it normal for Admiral to seem like he hasn't slept in two weeks?" Saratoga slowly nodded. "Is it also normal for him to consume two heart attack's worth of sugar in less than an twenty minutes?"

This earned her a chuckle. "That's the most colourful way I've heard someone put it. Yeah, I figured he'd do something like that."

There was a pause as the fleet carrier's eyes roamed over a merchant ship, a real ship, made of steel, in the distance. She sighed.

"Admiral's too conservative sometimes. You should have seen our resource pile a while back."

 _Hm? Too many resources should be a good thing, if not a very good thing, if nothing else. That also means Admiral is the complete opposite of Captain._

She could see her new home now, a small cluster of buildings in the distance. They weren't tall, no, maybe six stories, but they were quite long. The docks were near them, embodied in a squat white building. A control tower loomed above everything else, where Kirov assumed an airfield would be.

Saratoga walked up to one of the buildings. First fleet, the map said. "You'll be able to find most of us at the cafeteria at around eight in the morning. G'night."

* * *

The Second Fleet dormitories were identical to the First Fleet dormitory building on the outside. But if the interior was like this in Second Fleet, Kirov wondered how much you could push it for First. The hallways were carpeted and the walls painted an off-white, with wooden doors and paintings dotting said walls. A pleasant smell enveloped the hallway, the one found in new houses. Kirov turned her head as she passed each door. She was on the third floor now, from Mitsuwa's map, near the front of the building.

 _76, 77, 78, hmm? A sign? Ah, 90-104._

She turned right at the sign's direction.

 _93, 94. Here._

Sucking in a breath, Kirov reached up, turning the knob. She poked her head in.

There were two other people in the room, besides her. A blonde haired cruiser, who had black rimmed glasses perched atop a small nose. She was bent over a wooden desk, similar to the Admiral's, but much smaller. Kirov noted the various small machines atop it-small contraptions she was pretty sure didn't exist in World War Two. They looked interesting, though.

Sitting on a lower bunk next to the window was a second blonde, a cup of tea beside her. The two occupants of the room turned to look at Kirov.

"Oh! You must be the new ship that's come in!" The heavy cruiser swiveled around in her chair, adjusting her glasses. She was wearing a blue skirt, under a white shirt. Her hair fell down to her waist. She looked about sixteen, if Kirov had to guess.

 _Pretty normal, she's dressed like some of the destroyers._

"HMS Hood, Royal Navy. It's great to meet you. Sorry about the table, I tend to tinker around with stuff an-"

"Sorry if she blows anything up, too," Warspite piped in. Her white dress was really puffy for her occupation.

 _Can she dodge torpedoes in that? It's really going to hurt if she can't._

"Warspite!" Hood whined. "Did you have to?"

The British battleship shrugged. "You nearly blew up Tenryuu's room too, so I thought it'd be a good idea to warn Kirov before the bloody building goes up."

Kirov smirked a little.

 _They remind me of Hornet and Kuznetsov, before Kuznetsov left. Wait, how'd they know me?_

"I'm assuming you already know who I am then," she replied with a small smile. "Eurocruiser Kirov, project of five nations."

The two British ships nodded. "We've heard a lot about you. Word travels quickly around here." There was a pause. "What're you waiting for? Make yourself at home. Er, sorry, the only bunk left is the bottom one nearest you."

"No problem at all," she responded. "I don't mind, seeing as though I don't have many belongings anyway."

Warspite suddenly looked troubled. "Blimey, that certainly will not do. We'll go with you to Tokyo to do some shopping some day."

 _Alright, if you say so._

Kirov sat down on the white sheets. The bed was quite soft, but that wasn't the primary thing on her mind. She leaned over on her arms, and stared at the small tube Hood was inspecting. It looked almost like one of her missile launches, but it was smaller and seemed to have a charge in it as well. The trio stayed like that for two hours, Kirov watching Hood work, and Warspite reading behind them.

Hood cast an amused glance at Kirov.

"My work isn't that interesting, is it?"

Kirov shook her head. "No, it's just interesting to see you experiment with something so similar to my own weapons," she said. A confused look. "I'll show you some of my equipment at the armory tomorrow. I think you'll like them."

Kirov watched as Hood perked up a little, probably having heard of her modern capabilities. She looked around the room again. Four bunks. "Who's the other person staying here?"

"Exeter is on an expedition right now. Admiral said he needed a few more resources so Yamato and Musashi could come," Warspite said. "Hm. You're stuck in a room with three British ships, then."

"No, no problem. My sister's British after all," Kirov smiled at the memory. "Of course, I don't know what's become of her. I think I'll turn in for the night."


	8. Chapter Seven

**So sorry for the later updates in the past few chapters. It looks like school has finally caught up to me...**

 **Anyway, Chapter Eight. Enjoy.**

* * *

Kirov groaned as someone pulled the curtains open, flooding the room in light. "Ah! Hood, no, please shut them again!" she mumbled, pulling her head under the blanket.

"Warspite here. No, it's time to get up. If you didn't call me Hood I would have considered it, though."

 _Oops._

"Sorry, your hair looked similar," Kirov apologised.

"Anyway, get up. It's almost eight now," Warspite grumbled. "Hood told me to wait for you here in case you got lost on your way to the cafeteria."

Again groaning in displeasure, Kirov heaved herself onto the ground.

 _Ep. Cold floors. I wanna go back to sleep._

Warspite started to walk out, white dress swishing as she did so. Kirov noticed she now wore a crown on her head, glittering with precious stones. Yep, that's normal here, apparently.

She followed the white shape down corridor after corridor, through a bridge connecting buildings, down two flights of stairs, and finally arrived at a set of doors. Still trying to shake off the lingering cold, Kirov strode into the cafeteria.

It was much warmer in here. She almost hit Warspite for not bringing her here sooner, but it was a ways from their room. The smell of food was strong in the cafeteria as well, but it was an entirely different smell from Mamiya's Cafe. While the cafe smelled of pastries and desserts and "coffee", the cafeteria smelled of eggs and pancakes and such.

A normal breakfast for normal people. Almost.

Warspite tossed a red tray in her direction, which she caught, with some difficulty, and placed it on the counter like the battleship did. The cook gave her a look.

"You're new here, I take it?"

Kirov nodded. "Kirov, Eurocruiser Project. Pleasure to meet you," she said.

"Likewise. What'll it be?"

Er. _I haven't seen food from outside Russia, Britain and Germany._

"What do you have here?" The cook glanced behind him. He repositioned his hat.

"I'll get you a BB standard then, it'll be a good place to start for a modern cruiser," the cook finally answered. Kirov nodded in agreement.

Pretty much immediately, a plate slid towards her, crammed with eggs, potatoes, and a piece of toast. The kitchen had also somehow shoved a container of fruit onto the side, but granted, it was a large plate.

 _A few times bigger than the ones my galley used._

She turned around and found Saratoga waving at her from table from the far wall. Warspite had already found herself a spot next to Hood at the table across, so Kirov opted to sit opposite Saratoga. She set her tray down on the wooden table. The booth was soft, covered in fabric and wide enough to seat three people.

Saratoga smiled. "Meet your roomies?"

"Two. Hood and Warspite, they said Exeter's on an expedition," Kirov replied, shoving a spoonful of egg into her mouth. Her eyes widened. "Oh! These're better than I've seen before."

She heard a snicker. "You're cute when you do that…"

"Ah?" Kirov whipped her head around to find...nobody.

 _Eh? What?_

"What was that?" Saratoga asked. The fleet carrier had suddenly stopped eating her monstrous pile of food, the hand with her spoon gripped in it now at rest.

"E-oh, nothing, it was nothing." Saratoga stared at her, eyes slightly narrowed. "I assure you, it was nothing!" Kirov raised her hands defensively.

 _At least, I hope it was nothing._

Her friend finally relented, leaning back and taking another spoonful of food into her mouth. Kirov sighed and stroked a few of her brown hairs back into place.

"Good morning, Saratoga! It's good to see you're fine, Kirov!" Both ships at the table turned to find Prinz Eugen and Bismarck, in their grey uniforms, walking towards them. The Kriegsmarine girls stopped at their side.

"Mind if we join you?" Bismarck inquired.

"Course not," Saratoga said swiftly. She moved her tray closer to the edge of the table, Kirov following suit. The German ships sat down beside them. Their meals were similar to everyone else's, the same portions for classes of ships.

 _So many things are different here, yet there are still elements of our old lives everywhere._

The four ships ate their meals in a contented silence, until Saratoga completed her meal. They dumped the dishes at the kitchen, where Hood and Warspite rejoined them.

"The Admiral wants to see you," Warspite said as they exited the building into the morning sun. The breeze was cool, the sea frothing under it.

Kirov nodded. "Ay, I'll be back afterwards. Have a good time."

* * *

Mitsuwa flashed the three ships a smile as they entered. Nagato stood beside him, as always, reading over a document of sorts.

 _Intimidating as always._

"G'morning. Sleep well?" The Admiral asked. Hood and Warspite nodded, with an affirmative hum from Kirov.

"Glad to hear it. Anyway, it's been brought to my attention that Kirov has fully functional modern, or what was modern, weapons systems, correct?"

Kirov nodded.

"Would you allow us to study a few of them, possibly arming a few of our other ships with them?

Another nod.

"Good, to the armory, then!" Mitsuwa yelled enthusiastically, crimson eyes glowing with delight. "We'll be able to bust through to Okinawa in no time if this works!"

Admiral Mitsuwa jumped out of his seat, smoothing out his white uniform, grabbed Kirov by the cuff of her sleeve, and quite literally dragged her behind him as he made a beeline for the armory near the docks.

 _Ah! He's suddenly so energetic!_

Warspite and Hood looked at each other before sprinting after their commanding officer.

Akashi, who was inspecting a slightly ruffled Zuikaku, looked up to see why her door was now slightly dented. She nearly jumped before hastily saluting, dropping her wrench with a clatter.

Kirov's superior waved his hand dismissively. He motioned to the ship in tow, and Akashi's face lit up. Zuikaku let out a grumble, but stared questioningly at Kirov from her place on the stool.

The modern cruiser gave a timid wave. The door flashed once again, like a valve as Hood and Warspite finally barged in, red faced and panting.

"H-how do you even run that far, that fast, pulling a ship behind you, Admiral?"

Mitsuwa shrugged as he began to walk to a bench. "I get excited sometimes."

 _There could be a torpedo behind me and I couldn't run like that. I wonder if Admiral's had a history with the Abyssals?_

Akashi cleared her throat, holding up a notepad.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Kirov. I won't need all that much, but I've written it down here," she said, tearing the paper off and handing it to Kirov.

 _One or two missiles, no problem. A radar? No missiles here yet, so one should do. Yeah, Akashi can have most of these. A-uh. A nuclear reactor._

Kirov jabbed a finger at the paper.

"You're basically asking for my heart right there, y'know?"

Zuikaku slumped down slightly. "I told her taking that would be the equivalent of taking one of our or all of our boilers," the carrier said suddenly, fidgeting with her twin ponytails. "Of course, Akashi's really excited by your presence here, as is Hood, and Yuubari too when she returns."

The heads currently in the room turned towards a nervous chuckle. "Well, yes, but I'm not an expert on modern ships and if our ships were as capable as you in terms of propulsion and weaponry, we could win the war a lot faster and," she rambled. Her face changed. "Will you let me replace it with a turbine?" Akashi asked then, pressing two finger together hopefully.

 _She seemed like she was having such a good day, too. Oh, screw it._

"Alright...I'll let you take it. You'll have to give it back to me in three days, though." Kirov finally decided.

"Deal! Admiral, just let Kirov stay here and rest in the meantime, is that alright?"

Mitsuwa considered the repair ship's words. "I was going to send a task force with her to Okinawa and salvage a few resources from an old base, so I will delay that until you're done. That being said, I think three days is fine." Nobody took notice of a British battleship sneaking into the room adjacent to their current position.

Kirov walked over to Mitsuwa's bench and sat down next to him, setting her ushanka down beside her.

"My reactors are placed similarly to your boilers. Be careful; you burst a coolant pipe, and half this base will be a radioactive mess in under an hour."

The repair ship, Hood standing behind her and now furiously scribbling notes, nodded.

"I'll make sure nothing blows up too badly today," the girl said. "I assure you, I've done ample research on nuclear power plants. You'll have a regular pair of boilers in the meantime."

"Very well," Kirov said flatly. Mitsuwa grinned and took a notebook out and positioned himself next to Hood.

 _Someone'd think they're trying to construct their own modern ships with all the words Hood must have put down by now._

Beside her, Zuikaku stirred. "You're not taking my boiler, are you?"

Akashi chuckled lightly, skirt dancing as she did so.

"I'm afraid I don't have any others on hand at the moment, so yes, I will be needing a boiler of yours."

The fleet carrier groaned and flopped onto the table conveniently located beside her, nearly spilling Warspite's newly made tea.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight. Thank you all for reading!**

* * *

The sea glistened under the morning sun, partially tucked away behind a puffy cloud. Kirov stood, dead in the water, as her engineering officers read a manual, over and over again, on the functioning mechanics of the steam turbine.

Akashi, Hood, Saratoga, and Mitsuwa stood on the pier, all with slight smirks on their faces.

 _You try this with a nuclear reactor._

She yelped as her engine room let out a scream of frustration.

 _Woah, please calm down a little._

"Sorry, this book makes no sense," came the response.

"It's so slow," her repair command observed.

 _Oh come on, we'd be stuck with no engine without this. Zuikaku's one boiler short, too._

Her weapons lay silent and unmoving, gun and missile crews gathered on deck, some of them laying on towels from their rooms.

A sputter, and a small stream of smoke emanated from the white funnel aft. The column widened, and Kirov once again began to move.

Kirov sighed and tried to turn for the port, holding tightly onto her coat. She felt a feeling she knew quite well now, even if she didn't turn that quickly in the first place. Her feet felt light, not rooted and solid like they used to. They were easily moved in the water, yes, but now she was almost ridiculously top-heavy. Her left knee buckled as her riggings dropped their weight onto it, sending the cruiser into the sea.

Kirov perched herself up on one leg, shaking off the remnants of the mighty splash that ensued.

You see, a steam turbine is much lighter than Kirov's usual reactor. Without the reactor's weight, she floated higher in the water, and was more prone to listing as well as presenting a larger target.

Akashi was grinning, Saratoga openly laughing with Mitsuwa, and Hood was still scribbling in that notebook.

 _How many notes can you take from me falling in the ocean?_

At least, after the first half of the day, she'd talked with Fubuki and Kongou.

 _How awful it would be to be permanently top heavy_ , she almost pitied the poor girl. _Well, she's gotten used to it._

She picked herself up, water dripping from her and her riggings.

 _Navigation, engineering, we're heading straight back. No exceptions._

There were a chorus of agreements, especially from her, yet again, soaked gun crews. The boiler steamed, and Kirov reached her new cruising speed of just under fifteen knots in about half a minute.

The modern cruiser was still drenched by the time she shuffled out of the armory, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

Her four spectators were still grinning and, in the case of Akashi, laughing her guts out. Saratoga walked over to her with an apologetic expression, towel draped across an arm. The American carrier wrapped it around her friend.

"Oh dear. You've heard the story about Fubuki, right?"

Kirov nodded dejectedly. "I ran into her a few hours ago with Kongou. She told me."

Saratoga gave a small sound of satisfaction. "You're not alone. But I don't think this technically counts."

Kirov grunted and moved over to Hood. She leaned over the smaller cruiser's shoulder, surveying the paper the British girl held. One specific sentence at the very bottom of the page written in incomprehensibly small text caught her eye.

Ah. 'Do not install single boiler and turbine on modern cruisers'. Worthy of a medal.

Hood looked up and tilted her head. Admiral Mitsuwa put a hand on Kirov's shoulder, mildly spooking her.

"That made my week. Go get some rest, you're with it for two more days."

 _Two more days. I suppose it can't be that bad._

* * *

There was an abnormality in Yokosuka International Naval Base's usually pristine weather. Lightning cracked through the sky, great whips of light who shone and just as quickly hid. Dark clouds rolled overhead, spilling rain onto the buildings below. The harbor was deserted; sidewalks slick with the water from above. The rain fell in sheets, impacting the lonesome buildings of Yokosuka and great metropolis of Tokyo towards the northwest.

Kirov knew Ooyodo would be in the command center, tirelessly operating communications and radar, likely with Mitsuwa and Nagato in the same room, hovered over a map.

In the meantime, she sat on her bunk, watching Hood, Warspite, Saratoga, Iowa, Bismarck, Texas, and Prinz Eugen playing poker. It was a little cramped in the small room, but nobody seemed to mind. There was nothing much to do anyway.

Hood, playing as dealer, burned a card and added a fourth card to the four cards face-up on the ground.

"I'm all in for that one," Texas declared. She pushed her growing pile of chips into the center. A few groans arose from the group.

"I fold," Warspite responded, laying down her two cards.

Iowa moved her chips beside Texas's silently, Prinz Eugen following suit.

"Tch," Bismarck folded.

"Saratoga?" Hood asked. The fleet carrier was eyeing the deck of cards in Hood's grasp suspiciously, as if willing it to give up its next card.

"I'm in," she said. The soft yellow radiating from the light of the room cast a relaxing haven from the storm raging outside.

 _I much prefer it in here. No stability issues on my bed._

Hood discarded the first card. She peeled off the next one, slowly, and let it down beside the others. The four remaining participants revealed their cards.

"Ha! I wi-" Texas began. And then she noticed her comrade's ridiculously giddy face. "Screws."

Saratoga smirked, placing her cards beside the ones Hood put down. A straight flush.

"Hm. I must thank you for that win," the American carrier said sweetly. "That was a rather fun game."

There was a knock on the door, followed by a nearly imperceptible squeak of the hinges. A third British girl waltzed in. She looked somewhat similar to Bismarck, sporting the same gray as the base colour of her uniform. She had hair tied neatly into a ponytail that reached her waist, and a maroon red knee-high sock on her left leg.

"Welcome back, Exeter," Iowa said. "How'd it go?"

The heavy cruiser named Exeter gave a small wave. "It was nothing. Two skirmishes, a few ships lightly damaged, but we got the resources Admiral wanted."

 _So this is Exeter!_

"Nice to meet you. Eurocruiser Kirov, second ship of the Eurocruiser Project."

Exeter turned to her. "Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. HMS Exeter, Royal Navy. I was not aware of your previous existence," the heavy cruiser said.

"Most of the people here weren't. Me and my sister were kept secret, by five nations, collectively." Exeter responded with a small hum.

"Poker? Mind if I join?"

"Of course not. Welcome back, Frau Exeter," Prinz Eugen chirped happily. The bubbly girl began to redistribute the chips from last game, Hood shuffling the cards. "Kirov, are you playing?"

Kirov slipped off her bunk and sat on her legs between Iowa and Bismarck. "I don't see why not," she replied with a laugh.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Thank you all for following and reading this story.**

 **Comments, criticism, and reviews are all appreciated. Have a great rest of your day!**

* * *

"It's still raining?" Kirov asked. Warspite nodded sadly.

"Bloody storm hasn't faltered a bit. I think it's been raining more, actually."

Kirov tossed the deck of cards between her hands. The room was really becoming quite stuffy.

Not that the girls couldn't go outside, no, they'd only get soaked and cold if they did. Getting the flu in the middle of a war does not make for a happy commander.

"Mm. You should try this beer, Kirov." Hood said from her desk, overlooking a small steel mechanism. The cruiser flipped a small arm on its side, and the canister sprawled itself on her desk, stretching newly formed supports, ending up looking like a gun mount without the gun.

The shipgirls of Yokosuka had been trying to find a viable alternative to vodka, which the naval base possessed none of, to quell Kirov's growing thirst for the substance.

"Beer and vodka are still different, Hood. It's not that I don't like beer, it's still not vodka."

The British girl grumbled, folding the metal carriage back into place. She flipped the lever again, letting it fall again.

"Anybody else hear that whistle?" Exeter asked suddenly.

The other girls in the room tilted their heads. "What whistle?"

Exeter moved closer to the window.

"Listen. Listen closely."

"Are you alright, Exeter? I don't like how you're sounding," Warspite said quietly.

Indeed, there was a faint whistle from the outside world. Hood reached out and yanked the curtain open. The horizon was dark, world outside a blue-gray. Not a single ray of sunlight reached the ground; that morning may as well have been dusk. Thunder still rolled in the clouds, lightning still streaked through the sky. Nothing had changed.

The only lights penetrating the dreary view were the lights of the base itself, beacons in a world of nothing. The buildings around them were only dark bricks.

"No, it's definitely there," Kirov said. "It's a sound I think we all should know very well."

The room lit up. A blossom of fire engulfed a small building, and there were suddenly a lot more whistles.

The firebomb wouldn't have hurt anything other than the plants in the district. But it could serve as a marker for explosives following it. Air raid sirens sprang to life, wails filling the silence between the whistles of bombs and the following explosions.

"Ooyodo speaking. Sizeable Abyssal force detected to the southeast! All available shipgirls are to report to the armories! Immediately!"

Ooyodo shouted over the intercom as the earth rocked with thuds. Then the warheads detonated, and the building beneath the warships shuddered. Lights blinked.

"Armories? Don't we only have one armory?" Kirov asked.

Warspite grinned. "That would be illogical, wouldn't it now? Follow us!"

The three British girls darted out the door, and the residents of Second Fleet, Room 94 threaded through the building. They reached a reinforced door, which opened on their approach. Kirov's eyes widened.

The place was huge, completely underground. It had a domed ceiling, which looked like it was made of concrete. Air ducts and speakers ran across the walls, channels branching to different armories. Shipgirls had already reached the room, and it was quite crowded inside. However, there still seemed to be a sense of order in the chaos, and the warships moved swiftly to their destinations.

Nagato stood on a slightly raised pedestal, directing warships to different launch bays. First Fleet was already underway, and would provide time for other ships to sail to their aid.

 _I hope nobody gets themselves killed too horribly. On second thought, I'll make sure nobody does that._

Nagato turned towards her. "Eurocruiser! Follow Hood and Exeter to the cruisers bay!" Kirov nodded.

"Do I count as 'available'?" she wondered sarcastically.

Hood giggled. "Technically, yes, but you're simply less functional right now."

Exeter looked at the two, confused. "Oh, don't worry. You'll see when we get to the sea," Hood explained.

 _This layout makes sense. These armories and launch bays are for a wide-scale deployment, there's barely a line here! The regular armory above includes Akashi's workshop and is the one generally used for sorties and expeditions._

The cruisers stepped onto the glowing blue symbols. As they advanced toward the launch, their riggings fell onto their backs, as an extension of their bodies. Kirov felt her torpedoes, not much more than panic weapons, and then propulsion clamp onto her legs. Her bridge and hull under the funnel clasped onto her chest, metal locking onto her shoulders and ribs. Her guns unfurled just above her shoulders, two protrusions of her hull stretching in front of her, bearing her missiles.

Kirov retrieved her tablet from a slot in her left gun. The admittedly well camouflaged bay door was already opened into the frothing harbour, muzzle flashes already visible. Exeter and Hood steamed ahead steadily, as they'd always done.

Kirov, however, was a different story.

Still missing the ballast she so desperately craved for now, the top-heavy modern cruiser toppled immediately, sending a cascade of water flooding seawards.

"Akashi wanted to study her nuclear reactor, and replaced it with a boiler. Now she's top-heavy, maybe even worse than Fubuki," Hood said quietly to Exeter. The other girl nodded before steaming back, and hooking one of Kirov's arms onto her shoulder. The exasperated modern cruiser launched all three of her helicopters.

She shot a thankful glance at Exeter.

"Aircrews, I'm counting on you. I won't be able to launch missiles without injuring Exeter, and I can't stand on my own. I'll do what I can with my guns," Kirov told the three aircraft.

The lead KA-29 responded over radio.

"Understood! We'll stay out of range of their AA batteries. KA-29, callsign Sandwich, out."

"Sandwich" turned and pointed at the small formation at the Abyssals dotting the horizon.

 _Careful of the enemy aircraft. First Fleet has reported numerous carriers._

Kirov chose to load the three helicopters with a balanced weapon suite of air-to-air missiles and air-to-ground missiles without flares, as she expected Abyssal carriers to show up.

Exeter and Hood steamed to the center-left of the gathering formation. Fleet carriers were to be spread out at the back, battleships guarding flanks and the front. Destroyers and cruisers were supporting the capital ships with additional AA capability, firepower, and torpedoes. Under the cover of rain, the Abyssals were only dark shadows, wisps of flame jutting out from their guns.

Kirov spotted Warspite ahead of them. The British battleship sat comfortably in her rigging, directing shots at target after target. The Abyssal shells slamming into her sides and front seemed to do minimal damage.

The carrier patrol groups were about a kilometer off to their right, her radar crews reported. Exeter loaded her shots with a click.

"Fire!" The familiar bark of guns erupted once again, and Exeter cast 1500 pounds of steel and high explosive at the enemy.

Kirov's aerial footage, from callsign "Sandwich" showed Exeter's shells splash alongside of a Ta-class battleship. The pilot of the helicopter spoke into his headset.

"Opening fire. Missiles locked on lead Ne-class cruiser on enemy right formation," he reported, thunder and the whir of blades echoed over the channel.

"Affirmative. Fire at will," Kirov gave her permission. "Gun two, load your armor piercing composite rigid shells."

The gun opposite Exeter gave a click. "Loaded. Target?"

"Re-class battleship, off our port side. Estimated range twelve kilometers."

The gun fired. A jet of flame followed the red tracered shell, streaking through the sky.

 _Ah, much prettier than lightning._

Her KA-29 squadron let loose their missiles. As fire blossomed across the sky, gunnery momentarily paused; warships and Abyssals disengaged and watched the firestorm whipped up by such small machines. A second flash lit up the night as the Re-class detonated, three well-placed shots in the midsection just below the waterline. Thank you, superior fire control.

The helicopter's missile impacted their targets, more flashes challenging the storm. The din of gunfire soon resumed, shells once again roaring across vast expanses of ocean.

The Abyssals were well matched in terms of firepower and armor, but they were at a major disadvantage in individual thinking and strategy. That was the popular belief, anyway.

But that was more than made up for in numbers. Where the shipgirl formation occupied their bay and a small portion outside, the Abyssals dotted around the entire perimeter, five visible ranks thick.

However, faced with a wall of fury, the Abyssal attack faltered. Their air power was whittled away as the Carrier Divisions launched wave after wave of aircraft to face the onslaught.

Their naval forces dwindled as the barrage of shells flew at their warships, each detonating in due time. And that last unexpected addition, the one last factor that can turn a losing battle around. Missiles now flew in salvo after salvo, glowing trails hanging in the air in their wake.

Nonetheless, all combatants of the action were drenched through their skins. Mother Nature does not pick favourites.

"E-Exeter? There's something different I'm picking up on my radar," Kirov said uncertainly. The British cruiser slapped a hand to her right ear and relayed the message to Admiral Mitsuwa and Ooyodo, waiting anxiously in the command center. Kirov suspected Nagato would be there as well.

"What's it like?" Exeter asked.

"I can tell it's big. It's probably slow and well armored in that case, but I can't be sure."

There was a pause as the rumble of gunfire died down on the Abyssal front. A momentary cheer arose from the shipgirls as their foes retreated, but faded as a new enemy steamed towards them.

"Ah, bugger. Battleship Princess," Warspite yelled over the radio.

"All ships, regroup! Try not to get hit too badly. If you do, retreat inwards," Mitsuwa spoke. The remaining ships formed into a large diamond, surrounding their carriers in a protective wall.

Kirov detached herself from Exeter and spread her feet. _As long as I don't move, I'll be fine,_ she assured herself. Hood gave her an uncertain look, as did Saratoga. Texas waved her hand.

"Kirov'll be fine. She's actually built a rather stable cruiser, from what I've read."

"She's not exactly built to specifications right now," Saratoga retorted.

"Nonetheless."

Kirov sighed. Her missile crews reported their positions.

 _Locked and loaded! Shoot that Abyssal with the really big riggings?_ Kirov chuckled. _Affirmative._

"Fire primary missile batteries!" She commanded, flinging an outstretched arm towards her foe. The warheads splayed themselves out, in the same way they did around her hovering helicopters.

A fury of explosions rocked the Battleship Princess, but the Abyssal shook off the impacts and simple steamed on.

"Ei! What!" Kirov shouted.

"This is Helicopter Three, callsign Clipper, moderate damage. Engine hit, fuselage hit."

"Helicopter One, callsign Sandwich, radar hit. We're flying blind." The tablet's module indicator lit up, and two of her helicopters flashed yellow and orange.

"Return. Helicopter Two, callsign Quartet, increase altitude to two thousand meters. Do not, repeat, _do not,_ take any fire."

The helicopters responded affirmative, and two choppers buzzed out of the formation and turned back to home. Iowa and Bismarck pointed at the sea to Kirov's starboard at the same time, yelling the same thing over the radio.

"Kirov! Submarine! Torpedo to starboard!"

Her bridge crew were the last to respond. Her aft searchlight case down on a bubbly trail, barely visible in the darkness of the storm and the violent movements of the waves.

"Torpedoes spotted!"


	11. Chapter Ten

**It's going slowly. It's still going, though. Hmm, perhaps I'll start actually naming the chapters as well.**

 **Good day, and thank you for reading!**

* * *

Kirov's mind went into a spin.

"Engineering! Full ahead! Bridge! Rudder, three-quarters starboard! Turn into the spread, between the third and fourth torpedoes!"

Her propulsion threw a fit as her crew pushed the older machinery to its limits. Her guns fired once at the Battleship Princess.

But her new acceleration was so dreadfully slow! By the time she looked back at the white trail, like a timer counting down, her speed had only reached six knots.

Ships don't turn well at six knots.

She heard the groan and then snap of steel as a brace broke. Her right leg gave out from beneath her, and she fell on her side into the cold water.

Her mind barely had time to register the detonation of her shells upon the Battleship Princess, the numbing pain of the collision with the water, and how cold said water was before a round, smooth thing slammed into her gut. Kirov heard a click amongst the waves.

The object promptly detonated, burning shrapnel lancing into flesh, and in some cases, where there _should_ have been flesh.

She screamed.

* * *

" _You'll stay in the center of the formation. And do not, repeat,_ do not, ' _get mad' and start beating the Abyssals with a disembodied arm. Is that clear, comrade?" Kirov's Admiral asked the cruiser beside her. Shchors pouted._

" _Understood, Admiral," she said slowly. The girl's shoulders sagged slightly under her dark grey coat._

 _Many of the girls in the previous expedition became understandably terrified of Shchors after that. In fact, Kirov wondered if Shchors was insane after all. One can't hate their enemy to that extent and still be sane, can they?_

" _Eurocruiser. This is the plan for the next operation. You're to destroy the forward base southeast of here." Admiral gave Kirov a map. Her eyes roamed over the paper, catching the words scrolled across the Motherland._

"Russian Federation." _Hate it,_ _her mind retorted automatically._

 _She tore the map in half. The faces of the occupants of the room flashed into startled positions, eyes darting to the modern cruiser. Admiral jumped up, eyes mixed with anger and worry. He never did get mad at any of the girls, and if he did, it usually was for putting themselves in danger._

" _My hand slipped," Kirov said quickly. Admiral sighed._

" _I understand your feelings towards the West. I feel similarly, comrade. We've wanted peace, and now we exist in secret. But Japan is in trouble, and if we are to redeem ourselves for the actions of our leaders, we need to begin somewhere," her commanding officer said softly. "This base is the gateway to the Sea of Japan. We destroy it, and if everything goes well, ships can pass safely again."_

" _The world believes we are no more. If word of us is revealed, it will pop an unsteady bubble of order. The Russian Federation will destroy us," Kirov replied. "The rest of the world does not have modern ships such as I and Minsk summoned as shipgirls. We'll be forced to give up our technologies."_

 _Admiral sighed and retired to his chair. "Your concerns are reasonable. However, you and the rest of Fourth Fleet are to proceed with the operation. I'll bring your points to High Command."_

 _Kirov exhaled a breath she didn't know was pent up inside her, knowing she wasn't getting anything else out of her commander. "Very well, Admiral. I'll detail your plans to Fourth Fleet and Flagship Sevestopol."_

 _Admiral nodded. "Dismissed." Kirov and Shchors were the first to exit the office, followed by four Soviet Marines, provided by the newly missile-equipped hospital ship Armenia. The girl insisted they were to keep Shchors from being mugged by the other ships, but Kirov felt the cruiser was well suited enough to defend herself._

 _The Fourth Fleet Headquarters was a large building. Built entirely of reinforced and blast-resistant materials, it could survive the initial effects of an atomic detonation. The building was rather a shallow dome, but it extended meters into the ground, an unnecessarily large chanber in the center. This chamber was as bland on the inside as it was viewed from outside; open air ducts spiderwebbing across the walls like veins, wires, pipes. It was lit by industrial spotlights placed upon the ceiling._

 _A circular hallway surrounded this chamber, and the Fourth Fleet personnel resided in the dorms branching off the hallway. The hallway and the dorms, in contrast to the chamber, were rather homey. They, more often than not, reminded Kirov of a hotel, but with no windows; it was underground._

 _Kirov quickly descended the concrete stairs to the chamber, formally known as the "Fourth Fleet War Room."_

 _Her comrades were waiting for her at a series of tables in the octagonal War Room. Sevestopol stood and greeted her, while a fuming Shchors pulled up a seat next to Gangut._

 _Fourth Fleet had a...unique structure. While Sevestopol was officially listed as Flagship, Kirov, Minsk, and the submarine Red October remained the only modern kanmusu of the world. Of course, their existence was a well-guarded secret._

 _These three ships were placed throughout the Soviet Union's four fleets, Third Fleet being the only one without a modern ship. Therefore, as they were important pieces of the war and would need to be consulted often, Sevestopol herself had brought up an idea to High Command._

 _Their three modern ships would act in a role to the Flagship as Secretary Ship was to Admiral. In other words, as a councillor to the flagships of the fleet._

" _What has Admiral cooked up this time, Comrade Eurocruiser?" The battleship asked, turning from the large computer screen on the wall._

 _Kirov held out the two pieces of the map and smiled bashfully. "I might, not saying I did, but I might have ripped the map when I saw 'Russian Federation' on it."_

 _A few facepalms echoed throughout the room._

" _Hehe. It's more accurate that way. Let me see it," Sevestopol said, reaching for the map. The battleship took the halves, and with a swish of her hair, turned and briskly walked to a table. Kirov heard her rip off a long strip of tape, which she then stuck onto the ruined map with hasty precision._

 _Readable, at best._


	12. Chapter Eleven

"Eeh...Admiral..." Kirov murmured, rolling onto her side.

"K-Kirov? Eurocruiser? Can you hear me? Kirov!" Saratoga's voice registered itself in her consciousness. Kirov shifted in the bed, cracking open an eye to the white of the room.

The bed and blanket felt different compared to her usual bed and blanket. She dropped her head to see the rest of the bed, and by extension, the room.

What she saw? White.

The bedsheets were white, the ceiling and walls were white, the blanket was white, hell, the gown she was apparently dressed in was white. She turned to her right, and her vision registered a navy blue anomaly in the room.

 _Nope. Don't belong here._

Saratoga's eyes were slightly wider than normal, mouth slightly agape. Kirov felt multiple pads adhering to her skin, to which she saw multiple machines. Among them was the heart rate monitor, which let out a small beep every few seconds.

The American fleet carrier suddenly wrapped her arms around Kirov, before her body began to convulse with sobs as she tried to muffle her crying in Kirov's gown.

Kirov jerked. "S-Saratoga? Comrade, what's wrong?"

Her friend raised her head slowly. "E-eight days. You've been here for eight days, and you've already gotten yourself into a coma?!" The Russian cruiser was taken aback at the carrier's sudden burst.

 _A coma? So torpedo to the stomach is a pretty bad injury then._

"What do you mean?" She asked unsteadily. Saratoga stared at her, directly in the eye, before breaking down and beginning to beat on the arm laying next to her.

 _She's adorable._

"You've been here for eight days! Eight! None of us know you that well, but none of us want to see you leave that quickly, either!" She wailed.

"Aie! I get it! Please stop hitting me, it's beginning to hurt!" Saratoga sniffed and withdrew from the bedside. She sat back in the plastic chair, hair clinging onto the backrest.

The room fell into a silence once again.

"Here, Admiral!" Kongou's voice spoke in the outside the room before the door creaked open. "Hm? You're awake? Good to see you fine!" The battleship waved Mitsuwa in with a smile and chuckled as she crouched beside Kirov's bed. A man in a white coat followed Admiral Mitsuwa. Kirov caught his name on the tag he wore above his heart.

Dr. Karsten Steinitz.

"How d'you feel? Anything still broken?" Kirov shook her head. "Good! The instant repairs work on you too!" The doctor beamed. "Of course, you'll still be sore for a few days. Rest bitte, you will be fine, and do not ever do zat again."

Kirov stuttered.

Mitsuwa spoke up. "You had us worried. Akashi said the instant repair bucket heals physical damage, and not trauma the brain may have suffered." He paused, and moved beside Saratoga.

"I'm needed at a conference in Tokyo soon, so have a good day, girls."

Admiral Mitsuwa smiled and stepped out of the room, mop of black hair beneath his famous white hat and Admiral's uniform.

As one of the last experienced Admirals in Japan, Mitsuwa had a well known name. He represented Japan, if not humanity's salvation and hope against the Abyss.

* * *

"Ja. You seem fine," the doctor said. "But as I said before, rest before go into combat. Not overdo or stress body for at least next three days."

He paused.

"I'm free to go, then?" Kirov asked, wrapping the blanket around herself.

 _Must this hospital be so cold?_

She recieved a small jerk of the head. "Is strange, you wake from coma in unnaturally short amount of time, and are affected less."

"Of not positive, but I believe repair party has large role in recovery. Give them rest too." The doctor walked around her, unhooking machines and powering them off.

Kirov saw his nearly imperceptable glance at Saratoga and Kongou. He reached into his pocket and stuffed a small packet of paper into her hand. She heard her comrades on the opposite side of the room, talking just out of earshot. Wrapping her hand around it, she quickly hid the paper between the folds of her ushanka. If the doctor needed to deliver this paper in such secrecy that her friends were not wanted to see it, he must have a reason.

She stood up. Kongou followed suit, and held the door for both of her accomplices.

The hallway was as cold, if not colder than the room she'd awoken in. Akashi, who joined them as they passed the cafeteria, produced a small module in her hand, which she held up.

"I replaced your reactors in their old positions," she reported apologetically, as if blaming herself for Kirov's torpedo to the stomach. "Hopefully you'll have no further stability dysfunctions."

Kirov thanked her, grateful for the added weight.

"It's not your fault for my injury. I'm willing to take a torpedo as long as it helps the war effort." Akashi shook her head softly, but said no more.

A nurse approached with a basket and handed it to Kirov. Peering into it, she recognized her trench coat folded atop the remainder of her garments. She excused herself, and entered a washroom to change.

 _Not let note fall out. Check is still in, I will read later._

The three made their way through the hospital until reaching the glass doors.

The hospital was on the very outskirts of Tokyo, and was the official hospital of Yokosuka Naval District, which had a clinic but no hospital. Damage beyond the repair capabilities of the docks were treated at this hospital.

Saratoga walked to a shuttle waiting at the side of the parking lot. She motioned for Kirov to enter, as Akashi was already scrambling up the steps.

The doors closed with a hiss, Saratoga taking a seat beside Kirov.

"You've never been in a car before, have you?"

"Not that I recall."

The carrier grins. "You'll enjoy it."

 _A car, huh?_ She felt somewhat nervous, but watched as Saratoga pulled down a strap from above her left shoulder and inserted the metal tip into a buckle which gave a click. She reached for her own, and did as she saw.

The shuttle gave a lurch, and Kirov jumped slightly.

"No need to fear for the worst. This area is relatively safe," Saratoga laughed. "Actually, the Abyssals can't walk."

Kirov felt an acceleration, and eventually found herself staring outside as trees whipped by at speeds unimaginabley fast. Vibrations shook the vehicle now and then, a sudden leaning to the right, then to the left, and to the left again. As the initial awe and shock of being on a land travelling vehicle, her radar crews sent her a small message.

 _The Naval Base is the opposite direction. We're going to Tokyo._

She jerked, and shot a look at Saratoga beside her. The carrier returned it.

"What?"

Kirov tilted her head. "Radar's said we're heading towards Tokyo. Care to elaborate?"

Surprise wrote itself over her comrade's face, but Saratoga replaced it with her usual smile.

"It's a surprise," was all she replied with. The carrier wouldn't budge after that.

Realizing she wouldn't get anything out of her comrade, Kirov sighed and leaned back into the blue fabric of the seat.


	13. Reboot Announcement

**Alright, that looks like a decent point.**

 **I'm going to reboot Until the End, and since I kinda know the characters somewhat better now, it will have better personalities and probably a more intricate plot & backstory. Will be coming soon.**


	14. At the Break of Dawn

**Well, I'm super late doing this. Three chapters late.**

 **At the Break of Dawn is out now.**


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